


And There is Your Resolve

by dreamlittleyo, rivers_bend



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comment Fic, M/M, Schmoop, Sibling Incest, Wincest - Freeform, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-25
Updated: 2011-04-25
Packaged: 2017-10-18 15:45:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/190471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamlittleyo/pseuds/dreamlittleyo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivers_bend/pseuds/rivers_bend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So dreamlittleyo wrote some Unresolved Sexual Tension, and rivers_bend came along and resolved it. What more do you need to know?<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	And There is Your Resolve

There was this one time he's pretty sure Sam almost kissed him. Almost, but Dean's not really certain it actually happened. It was just one of those moments, a little skewed and offbeat and maybe they just had bad timing. Just nothing, a nonverbal misunderstanding.

That has to be it, because there's certainly nothing untoward between them now. Nope, nothing. Dean's not fighting the urge to stare when Sam comes out from the shower in just a towel. Sam's not _looking_ at him all the time, over the top of the laptop screen, over his cup of coffee, over the map he's holding as they try to find their way out of this maze of a suburb.

On Friday they're at a tacky little corner of a bar, and Sam looms so close that the dish Dean was chatting up gives him a wary look and takes off. It's not weird, of course. Just his baby brother being a total cockblock, same as always.

On Saturday they're at a gas station when Dean gets a sudden sugar craving. He buys a tootsie pop when they check out. Has the wrapper off and everything, is downright _salivating_ , just about to put it in his mouth--

And Sam steals it. Plucks it right from Dean's hand and curls his lips all around it, sucking noisily, tongue darting out which, come on, is that _really_ necessary?

"I'm sorry, were you going to eat that?" Sam asks. Cheeky bastard. And Dean's definitely not staring.

On Sunday Sam doesn't even bother with the towel when he walks out of the shower. Dean doesn't look. A lot.

On Monday they meddle with a feisty spirit. Lay it to rest the usual violent way. Salt and fire and a lot of running around yelling each others' names into the dark. Sam touches him a _lot_ when they find each other after. Which totally makes sense. Gotta check for injuries, after all. Gotta be _thorough_ , even if it seems a little like roaming. Dean totally doesn't blush.

On Tuesday they're in another bar. A pretty one this time, all tactful decor, reds and golds and subtle light fixtures. Dean watches from across the room as Sam goes to order another round of drinks for them. Watches out of concern, of course, because that's what big brothers do.

A pretty little brunette thing approaches Sam while he orders, smiles and flirts and Dean can't read lips, so he doesn't know what's said. Can't see Sam's face from this angle so he doesn't know if his brother is blushing, but the woman's expression is bright and friendly. Hopeful. Dean definitely doesn't feel a twinge in his gut at the thought that his brother might get lucky tonight. Nope, he's just proud. Proud and happy. Like a big brother should be.

But then Sam shakes his head. Quick glimpse of disappointment in the woman's delicate eyes, and suddenly Dean _can_ see Sam's face. Because his brother is turning to glance over his shoulder. To look straight at him. Mouth moving, still talking to her, and her eyes spare Dean a glance before she smiles tightly and meanders away.

Dean's heart doesn't skip a beat as he watches his brother's return.

On Wednesday they're in the car and Sam is just _watching_ him again. Which certainly isn't making Dean's face go red. That's just the heat of sunlight through the windshield.

"Dean, pull over," says Sam. His face has a new expression. Distinctive. A look that says 'Enough already.'

Dean doesn't know what's going on, but he does as he's told. Pulls off onto the shoulder and locks his eyes on Sam.

Waits for his brother to speak.

"What is this, Dean," Sam asks, and Dean's going to answer, honest, he is, even though he really isn't sure he knows what the question is. But then Sam cups his face in one huge hand, rubs his thumb on Dean's cheek, right where the sun is making it pinkest.

"Why don’t you tell me?" That's the message Dean's brain sends to his tongue. But what comes out is more like "Heheahmmm," because Sam does that thumb thing again and now his fingers are curling around the back of Dean's neck and sliding into his hair and Sam's tilting his face, and _looking_ at Dean like Dean's got beer-flavored nipples, except that's probably not Sam's fantasy. But Dean's gonna have to stop thinking now, because Sam is _kissing him_ and just—oh _god_.

This, there's no mistaking. No almost. This is that _hand_ tipping him this way and that, getting him at just the right angle so Sam's lips and tongue are perfectly aligned to apply maximum heat to Dean's, well, everywhere. The not looking when Sam walked naked out of the bathroom is coming in handy now; it was good practice for not thinking about how this is the best kiss in the history of ever, which Dean really needs to not think, because he'd rather not come in his pants before Sam even gets down to business.

Tootsie-pop business, if Dean's particularly lucky, though honestly? At this point he'd take a hand-job through his jeans and count that a win.

"Dean," Sam says, and it's totally not fair, because he's stopped with the kissing, and Dean really liked the kissing. "Stop. Thinking."

"Right," Dean answers, and Sam sort of drags him out from behind the wheel, so he's draped over Sam's lap and they're chest to chest, his dick riding Sam's thigh. And Sam's hands are _everywhere_.

"So, Monday," Dean says and Sam groans, but doesn't try to stop him talking. "You weren't just checking for injuries?"

"If I say no, will you shut up and kiss me?"

Dean doesn't even bother answering, because the question reminds him that the kissing was pretty fucking awesome. And the kissing leads to Sam throwing him into the back seat and proving that his Tootsie-pop prowess is not limited to candy treats, and _that_ is even better.


End file.
